


Tear Down Your Walls

by bookaddict209



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Got this idea from B99, Irondad, Irondad Secret Santa 2019, Ned Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookaddict209/pseuds/bookaddict209
Summary: “Peter is the kind of kid who needs constant stimulation in his life to keep him from thinking about his own thoughts.” May looked up at him with pink eyes that looked close to crying. “Spider-Man is a lot more stimulating than US History, wouldn’t you say?”
Relationships: Morgan Stark & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105
Collections: Iron Dad Secret Santa 2019





	Tear Down Your Walls

**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission for Irondad Secret Santa! I chose Prompt #1, Really Good Hugs. I feel like I didn't have enough time to do quite what I wanted to do with this one, but this little plot bunny has been in my head for a while now and it was good to just get it out! I hope they like it!

The thing Tony didn’t expect about the prosthesis is that it really, _really_ itched.

He was on strict instructions not to touch his arm until there was more healing around the edges where the burns were still a bit raw, and Pepper was a stickler about such things. Still, the damn thing itched and tugged at the skin around his shoulder and it was driving him crazy.

Plus no one was around. If he was quick -

He startled with the pen in his hand when he heard a small giggle behind him. He whipped around to find Morgan crouched against the wall in her tiny pajamas, face all cute and angelic in that way it was when she wanted something she wasn’t supposed to have. Tony scowled at her.

“It’s well beyond your bedtime,” Tony said, working to keep his voice stern while he angled away to see if he could get the pen under the lip of the prosthetic and finally get some relief.

“No touch,” Morgan said with a mock pout, a perfect parrot of her mother.

Tony sighed and put the pen down. “What are you still doing up? There will be no extra naps tomorrow, missy.”

Morgan laughed, knowing full well there would be more naps. “Can we call Peter?” she asked.

Morgan had only met Peter a handful of times after the events of the war. The first time she’s been found in his hospital room while he was still being treated for injuries. Happy had shooed her out, only to find her there again an hour later, this time on the bed in Peter’s lap. Peter was sitting up, chatting softly with her and putting holograms of the stars on the ceiling. Peter was a natural with small children, and Morgan was smitten. She thought it was a crime of the highest order that Peter hadn’t seen her room in the cabin yet.

“It’s late up there,” Tony said, using his prosthetic arm to pick Morgan up with one hand and settle her against his hip. Unexpected boon of the robot arm - it was way stronger than he had been. “Peter’s probably asleep.”

“I’m not ‘sleep,” she said, burrowing her face in to Tony shoulder. It felt suspiciously like she was smothering a yawn.

Still, Tony smirked and settled them on the couch. After the physical therapy and final surgeries had been over, Tony had somewhat expected Peter to be back in action, talking a thousand miles an hour and giving him multiple heart attacks per day. Instead, Peter had texted Happy once per day to make sure Tony was still on the mend, after which he’d dropped off the face of the earth.

What the hell, Tony thought. “Yeah, who are we kidding, hm? We know teenagers don’t sleep. Friday, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Calling Peter Parker,” Friday said softly. Tony grabbed the blanket off of the back of the couch and tossed it over his shoulder so it covered Morgan’s shoulders. She yawned again.

When Peter picked up, his voice was husky in that way it was when he was close to sleep. “Hello?”

“Pete, it is I and Madame Secretary,” Tony said grandly. “Haven’t woken you, have we?”

Thee was shuffling on the line. “No. Wasn’t sleeping. What’s is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing wrong, just that Morgan wanted to call.”

Morgan drowsily pulled herself up in Tony’s lap. “Come see my room tomorrow,” she said, the end of the last word disappearing into yet another yawn. Tony mentally fist-pumped - Morgan was _so_ going down easy tonight.

“Tomorrow, huh?” Peter said, sounding distracted. “Something special going on?”

Tony waited for Morgan to respond, but after a moment he looked down and found Morgan’s eyes fluttering closed. He held back his chuckle so he wouldn’t jostle her. “Think she’s gone down for the count,” he said quietly to Peter. “But she’s been talking about you nonstop for the past few days. You’ve not been over enough for her taste.”

Peter made an amused sound. “I was just there last week with everyone else.”

“Well, yeah, when we had the party. But you haven’t been over just to visit. I know everything is still a little nuts right now, what with the house-hunt and us now being in the middle of the woods and all, but if you could spare us some time, we’d love to have you.”

Peter didn’t answer at first, and Tony wondered if Peter had also dropped off to sleep. But then Peter made the noise he made when he hit a building at high speeds, a small _oof_ of air that was knocked out of him when he caught the building and it stole all his momentum. Tony realized he could hear traffic.

“Peter,” Tony said, voice a touch more serious than it had been. “Are you in the suit right now?”

“Maybe,” Peter hedged.

Tony sat up, keeping Morgan close to his chest. “Oh.” He hadn’t thought Peter would go back into his Spidermanning so…soon. It had only been three months.

“I’m just swinging around.” Peter said, tone glib. “I was feeling…pent up today, I guess. We’re all kind of on top of each other at this relocation center we’re in right now. I just needed to feel like I wasn’t surrounded by other people, just for a second. You know how it is.”

Tony hummed. “Does May know where you are?”

“‘Course,” Peter said. “I mean, she’s still running the leaflet drop with the charity right now, but I texted her.”

Tony saw right through that one. “Look, kid -“

Peter sucked in a breath. “Oh, _shit_ ,” he hissed. “Mr. Stark, I see someone getting mugged. I know I said I was just swinging, but I gotta step in here.”

Tony jolted. “Wait, Peter, don’t -”

“Mr. Parker has terminated the call,” Friday informed him.

A put-upon sigh came out of Tony’s mouth. He looked down at Morgan in his lap and smirked. “Well that was fun,” he muttered into her hair, standing up uneasily. “Can’t wait for the follow-up phone call with his angry aunt.”

0-0-0-0

May didn’t call; they both showed up that weekend, much to Morgan’s delight. Peter grinned at her, for all the world excited to see her, but it looked a little painful to Tony. So did the impressive shiner the kid had on his left eye.

Morgan grabbed Peter and rushed him into the house, shouting about glow in the dark stars on her ceiling. May put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and turned him toward the edge of the porch. Something in Tony clenched. This couldn’t be good.

“He okay?” Tony asked.

“Physically? That black eye was blacker yesterday, so he’s on the mend,” May said, settling into a chair and wrapping her arms around her torso. Tony sat beside her, a bit stiffly, and sighed with relief. His hand traveled unconsciously up to massage the area between the prosthesis and his shoulder.

“Stop that,” May said absently, looking off into the forest.

Tony glared. “Seriously, did Pep tell _everyone_?”

May snorted and turned back to him. “I was a nurse, Tony, I know that thing’s not fully healed yet. Don’t touch it.”

Tony sighed. “Fun as this is, I’m sure you didn’t pull me over here to tell me to quit scratching my arm. What’s he done now?”

May worried her bottom lip with her teeth while she looked at Tony, eyes flicking over his face. Tony stiffened for the blow.

“I want you to take the suit back,” she said softly.

Tony jerked and blinked at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I want you to take the suit away from him,” May repeated. “Just for a little while.”

Tony arched a brow. “Because of last night? I thought you said he was okay-”

“He is. And he isn’t. He’s just - he’s-” she stopped and rubbed her thumb and forefinger across her eyes. “Do you know why Peter is such a good student?”

“Um,” Tony said. Where was _this_ conversation going? “He’s a smart kid.”

“He’s always been smart,” May said with a smirk. “But he never liked his schoolwork, even with all his brains. He was the kind of kid who came home and wanted to throw baseballs with his uncle in the park instead of cracking open a textbook.”

 _Oh no,_ Tony thought. _Not the uncle._

May looked down at her lap. “When Ben died, he started studying. Like, really studying - notes and flash cards and highlighted sentences, the whole deal. I was processing my own grief, so at first I didn’t think that much of it. Then like…like four months go by and I realize he not even sleeping anymore because he’s studying so hard.”

She cut herself off with a sigh and looked down at her fingers. Tony waited, a single bead of sweat going down the back of his neck.

“Peter is the kind of kid who needs constant stimulation in his life to keep him from thinking about his own thoughts.” May looked up at him with pink eyes that looked close to crying. “Spider-Man is a lot more stimulating than US History, wouldn’t you say?”

Tony wasn’t sure how to answer this. “You think he’ll latch onto it,” he finally said.

“I worry that he already has,” May said. “I think he’s convinced himself that he won’t have to think about missing five years of his life if he can go out in the suit every night.”

At Tony’s look of surprise, she smiled at him ruefully. “This is not his first midnight black eye of the past three months, Tony.”

Tony breathed out a sigh. Well, shit. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her what happened the last time he’d taken Peter’s suit, when Peter had gone out in what were basically pajamas. Then he remembered that Peter’s apartment had been demolished and rebuilt in the wake of the Snap. Peter wouldn’t have the old suit anymore; all he had was the watch. If Tony took that from Peter, he really would have to stop. For as long as it took him to collect the pieces to make more web shooters, anyway. If they kept an eye on him to keep him from doing that, could they really make him take a break?

“It’s not forever, or anything. It’s just that school starts back next week,” May said. “I’d just rather he focus on that right now. Find his footing, find his life again. Once I’m convinced he can handle it without killing himself by running himself ragged, he can have it back.”

Tony took in a deep slow breath and rubbed a hand across his chest. “Why me?” he asked, voice strained.

May laughed. “Because I won’t be able to hide it somewhere he can’t reach. Also, you are still his hero, you know. Especially after all this. If you ask him to take a break, he might listen to you.”

Tony nodded once. “He’s going to be pissed at me,” he said warningly.

“At us,” May corrected. “I already asked him to cool it, and he knows I wanted to talk to you. He’ll connect the dots.”

“Like I said,” Tony said, pulling himself arduously to his feet. “Smart kid.”

0-0-0

The Parkers stayed over for lunch; Morgan, still utterly besotted with Peter, had her lunch sitting in his lap. They talked about the apartment hunt, and Tony offered for the umpteenth time to find them a place in the city. May laughed him off, saying she had to find a job first to make sure they could keep the apartment. Tony offered to buy a hospital. Everything was light and happy and when they stood and put their coats on May gave Tony a look and he could feel the knot travel up into his throat.

He sniffed once and gave Peter a light pat on the shoulder. “Got a second?” he asked.

Peter looked up at him in surprise. “Uh, sure.”

“I wanna come,” Morgan said, bouncing up and down. Anything to maximize her time with Peter, Tony knew; she always hated it when he left.

“Tall guy business, Mo,” Tony said, flicking her ear when they walked past. She pouted and tried to follow after, but Pepper picked her up and distracted her with dishes. The one thing Morgan currently liked more than Peter was telling Pepper where to put the dishes in the cabinets. His kid was weird.

Peter followed Tony out the garage, rocking from side to side. “What’s up, Mr. Stark?” he asked.

Tony leaned against a drafting table at the back of the garage. “I wanted to see how you were,” he said lightly.

Peter’s hand drifted to his eye. “I’m fine,” he said self-consciously. “I wasn’t expecting to have to stop a mugging last night. Wasn’t exactly in proper stance when I landed in the middle of the situation.”

“You scared me with that,” Tony admitted. Peter looked down at his shoes. Tony noticed that he didn’t apologize.

It was silent but for the hum of the computers sucking down electricity. Peter put in his hands in the pockets of his jacket and shifting his weight from foot to foot, waiting.

Tony sighed. He wasn’t sure how to say it, so he squared his shoulders and went in for the kill. “I want to hang onto the suit,” he ground out.

Peter’s head snapped up and he immediately began to babble. “No, no no no, Mr. Stark, seriously, it was nothing. He caught me off guard and I just wanted to make sure that the woman he was following was safe, and I guess I was so focused on her that I didn’t see it coming, but I’ll do better, I will -”

“Kid, breathe,” Tony commanded, putting his prosthetic arm on Peter’s shoulder. Peter flinched but ground his teeth together.

“You’re not being punished,” Tony told him. “I haven’t seen the footage, but I have no doubt that you did the best you could.”

“Then why-” Peter cut himself off, eyes going hard and jaw clenching. “Oh. _May_.”

Tony gave him a look of commiseration but didn’t back down. “School’s about to start up again. She thinks - and I agree - that you should focus on that right now, not Spiderman stuff.”

“I can do both,” Peter argued.

“Not well. Not safely.”

“I _will_ be safe. The suit keeps me safe, that’s what you said.”

“Peter, you and I both know the suit can only do so much. Lest we forget the millions of alerts I’ve gotten from Friday telling me you were stabbed or unconscious.”

“Mr. Stark, we don’t have crime like that right now. Everyone is really too overwhelmed from coming back to do much more than the desperate crimes, the crimes people do to survive when they have nothing. And,” he said, raising his voice as he saw Tony moving to argue. “And, the police are still busy trying to rehabilitate all the officers who just got back too. They’re distracted, but I can help.”

“It’s not your responsibility to put the city back together.” The longer the argument went on, the more Tony was certain he had to get the suit back. Peter was self-sacrificing to a fault - given half the chance he’d kill himself out in the streets trying to avoid his problems.

“It’s my responsibility not to let my power go to waste. If I can’t help and I don’t-”

“Peter, this is beyond that stuff. This is the whole world coming back online after _five years_. Everyone has to take some time to find a way to deal with that. _You_ have to find a new way to deal with that.”

“I am dealing with it. I’m helping May find us a place to live. I went back to school shopping with Ned. I’ve finished the books I was in the middle of for summer reading. I’m ready to live my life again, and Spider-Man is part of that life.”

Tony shook his head. “I get what you’re saying, I do. But you need a break.”

“Stop telling me what I need, _please_ ,” Peter said with an exasperated sigh. “You don’t know what I need.”

“Yes, I do, Peter. You need time. Learn to be a kid in this world again, and then we can revisit the issue. But for now, hand over the suit.”

Peter se his jaw. “This is so unfair.”

“It’s not about being fair; it’s about doing right by you.” Their eyes locked, but something must have clicked for Peter because he bit his lip and looked down at his shoes.

“Fine,” he said, voice curt. Peter took the watch off and let it fall to the table closest to him. He hit the button to open the garage door. “Bye.”

Before Tony could regroup, Peter stepped around him and stalked out to the driveway to meet May at their oxidized purple van. She looked up from where she’d been waiting near the driver’s door and grinned nervously.

“How was-“ she began.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Peter snapped, cutting her a look so severe she actually reared back half a step. He pulled himself into the car and shut the door without another word. May looked at Tony across the yard, took a breath and then pulled herself into the car as well. After a second the car started and turned down the gravel drive.

Pepper poked her head into the garage. “Did you get it back?”

Tony nodded his head toward it on the table. “He’s mad at me now.”

She came down the stairs and patted Tony on the back. “Do you think you did the right thing?” she asked softly.

“Of course,” Tony answered. “He’ll keep doing it, Pep. If he doesn’t calm down about it, he’ll hurt himself.”

Pepper made a noise. “I understand, it’s just… well, Morgan’s asked for him to come back next weekend. We’re going to have to explain why that’s not likely.”

The sigh that came out of Tony felt like it was going to last for ten years. “Why do _I_ have to be the bad guy with all my children?”

0-0-0-0

School started. Peter went back, along with his friend Ned. Decathlon was slated to start again at the end of the month, so for now Peter did the typical high school mamba; breakfast, classes, lunch, gym, home, and repeat.

Tony got this all from May at the end of next week when he called to invite Peter back up to the cabin. He had tried explaining to Morgan that Peter was going to be busy now that school was back in, but since Friday had let him know Morgan was making tentative plans to hitchhike to Peter’s house, he figured he’d give it a shot.

“I think he’ll say no,” May said, sighing and sitting in a chair tucked into the corner of their shared living space.

“Tell him I said pouting is unbecoming,” Tony said as he cracked eggs into an omelette.

“Honestly I wish that was all,” she said. “When we came home that night, he was definitely mad, and I gave him the night to brood over it. I was prepared to meet anger with anger in the morning, but when I saw him he was just …empty. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t belligerent, he wasn’t anything. He got breakfast and left, and when he came back he did his homework and went to bed.”

Tony’s brow wrinkled. “What time?”

“8:45.”

“Shit.”

“I know.”

Tony glanced out the window at Morgan. It was an unseasonably cold day, not helped by the raining, but she had refused to stay inside and was kicking up puddles and piles of wet autumn leaves in her new rain boots. He made a mental note to get her into the bathtub as soon as he could to stave off a cold.

“Should I talk to him?” Tony asked.

“You can try,” she said. “He isn’t here right now, but - oh, wait-”

Tony heard a door open and close in the background. May’s voice was far away from the receiver. “Hi, honey.”

“Hey, May.”

“Tony’s on the phone.”

“Tell him I said hi.”

May snorted. “Tell him yourself, your Majesty.”

After a heartbeat Peter’s voice was in Tony’s ear. “Mr. Stark?”

Tony had armed himself with his quippy opening statement, but hearing Peter’s voice, he paused. Peter didn’t sound angry, or empty as he’d suspected; instead he sounded polite. Like he was calling with a grandparent on their yearly phone call. Somehow that was worse.

Suddenly he felt awkward. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi.”

Tony braced for the massive rush of words that usually accompanied Peter’s phone calls, but all he got was breathing. Tony sniffed. Alright, he could do majority of the heavy lifting in this conversation. “How are things?”

“Things are…going, I guess. You?”

“Things are getting interesting. Pepper’s flying out somewhere in the UK, so it’s just me and Morgan right now. Speaking of which, she’s asked for you only about a billion times since you left last week. Think you have it in you for another visit?”

The sound of silence stretched out on the phone to an uncomfortable point. Tony actually pulled the phone away to check that the call hadn’t been disconnected.

“Right now’s not…great,” Peter finally said.

“Oh, because?” Tony asked.

“I’ve got a lot going on this weekend. Ned and I are going to try to track down some lamps from thrift stores and Sunday morning I’m touring a new apartment with May. Getting it together, you know?”

“She mentioned it to me, yeah. Congrats, kid. I’m sure you’re ready to move out of the shelter housing.”

Peter let out a small laugh. “You have no idea.”

The conversation fell dead again. Tony, after an interminable moment waiting to let Peter go first, finally said, “Listen, I know you have a lot going on, but I also think it’s stressing you out. You need to take a breather. What about next weekend?”

It was almost like he could hear Peter sigh before he heard it. “Look, Mr. Stark, right now…doesn’t work. I have a lot to do and -”

“Is this because of the suit?” Tony asked. He couldn’t help it - Peter’s attitude was grating on his nerves.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Look, I get it if that’s what this is. You’re pissed because I took your suit but you want to be diplomatic about it. That’s fine. But you don’t have to pretend like that isn’t what this is.” Even though he was frustrated, Tony worked to keep his tone light.

Which is why Peter’s response, which came a full minute later, caught him so off guard.

“Right,” he said, and his tone could have shattered glass. “Because the _fucking suit_ is the only thing I have to deal with right now.”

It took Tony’s breath away, the force of that anger. And it felt like it had come out of nowhere. “Pete-”

“Here’s May,” Peter snapped. Tony could hear the phone being handed across, and then May’s voice saying, “Pete? Peter. _Peter_.”

A door slammed. After a second May was back on the phone. “What the hell was that?”

“Did he just leave?”

“He did,” May said, sounding frantic, and Tony realized that she must have tried to go after Peter herself. “Wait, Peter! Peter! Pete- excuse me, I’m sorry. Peter, stop! Excuse - ma’am, I said I’m _sorry_.”

Tony could hear the moment May made it outside and the ambient noise of traffic picked up around her. “Dammit,” she breathed. “God _fucking_ dammit.”

“Do you see him?” Tony asked.

“No,” May said, sounding close to tears. “ _Fuck_. Tony, it’s _freezing_.”

And their idiot spider-child had just disappeared without a coat.

0-0-0

Pepper was all for letting Tony find Peter, especially when she checked her phone and saw how cold it was going to get at night. She was ten thousand percent _not_ on board with letting Tony use his suit.

“The doctor said, no Iron Man until that arm is more healed,” Pepper had said, crossing her arms and giving Tony an unimpressed look. “Besides, you know the last thing that boy needs is for you to rip off your prosthetic. He’ll think it’s his fault.”

“How am I supposed to find him, then?” Tony had asked angrily.

She had glared right back. “You’re smart. Figure it out.”

So Tony had the pleasure of bundling up and wandering around Queens hoping to run into Peter somewhere. He bit the inside of his lip as the sun began to dip lower and lower in the sky. Peter had no watch, no phone, no suit - Tony had nothing to trace. He hated this. He was tagging Peter with a microchip when he found him.

After an hour Tony called May again. “You can’t think of anywhere he would go?”

“Tony, it’s been five years,” she said. She sounded so tired. “Most of the places he would have gone have been torn down. _God_ , this is a fucking nightmare.”

Tony slowed to a stop and sighed. “May, I’m - I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would come to this.”

“This isn’t you, Tony. This is grief, and pain, and loss. I’ve been through this with him before, but never like this. He used to talk to me.” Her voice got water. “Fuck, Tony. I just want my kid to talk to me again.”

“Teenagers don’t talk to their parents, they talk to each other,” Tony said. Then, after a beat, rolled his eyes.“Oh my _god_ ,” he said. “I know who I can ask. May, I’ll call you right back and let you know the minute I find something.”

Tony hung up and dialed the number. After three rings someone picked up. “Hello?”

“Ned? It’s Tony. You know the one.”

“….how do you have my number?”

“I’ll autograph something for you later, now listen. We’re trying to find Peter; do you have any idea of where he may have gone?”

The breathing on the other end of the phone was all he got in response. Tony smirked. “Give me your address, I’m coming to get him.”

There was a sound like someone sliding off of a bed, and door being softly closed. “Look, Mr. Stark,” Ned said. “Peter needs a minute before he goes home.”

“No, Peter needs to call his aunt and apologize,” Tony snapped, unable to help it. It was dark, and below freezing, and the joint behind the prosthetic was starting to ache. “And then he needs to get home.”

“No disrespect intended,” Ned said, voice suddenly steely. “But I have known him much longer than you have. And you don’t really know what he needs right now; if you did, you wouldn’t have taken the suit.”

Tony was too stunned to respond. What was with these mouthy teenagers snapping off at him today?

“We’re going to my uncle’s new restaurant,” Ned said. “I’ll text the address to this number. You can meet us there in an hour.” And before Tony could argue, Ned hung up.

Tony walked past it twice before he saw it. Ned had said they were going to a restaurant, but the building before Tony looked condemned. Locked doors, an empty storefront; it was a restaurant, obviously something Italian based on the red, green, and white over hang, but it was an Italian restaurant that had been closed for at least six months. The other buildings had been demolished and cleared, so it sat empty and alone on the street corner. He was about to call Ned and threaten him with legal action for giving Tony a false address, but then he heard voices.

“-could do with ice cream,” Peter said, stepping around the corner.

“Dude it’s literally one degree outside. No, we’re not getting ice cream.”

Peter snorted and shoved his friend with his elbow. Ned stumbled and they both laughed. Tony just stared. Peter looked up at the building in front of them, caught Tony’s eye, and abruptly stopped walking.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked.

“Could ask you the same, kid,” Tony ground out, shrugging out of his coat and handing it across. The bite of the cold hit him immediately, but it wouldn’t kill him.

Peter looked down at it. “I don’t need-”

“Peter, I am not asking.”

Peter set his jaw but took the jacket. Tony didn’t miss his shiver of relief when he stuffed his arms into it.

“Where are we right now?” Tony asked, looking up at the building. Peter looked up at it too, brow furrowed and obviously confused.

“I told you,” Ned said, stepping forward to unlock the door. “My uncle’s restaurant.”

The three of them cautiously entered the cold, dusty storefront and looked around. It was like the restaurant that was closed for the evening; tables with chairs on top of them, ugly laminate floors, swinging door that led to what as presumably the kitchen.

Ned started talking again. “Apparently real estate had some sort of huge boom over the last five years, what with so much coming up empty. My uncle decided he wants to open a restaurant to serve food from his home country, so he bought this place up cheap. I think it’ll be nice.”

Ned pointed to a door at the back and led them up a short, musty flight of stairs into a second interior dining room. Instead of chairs on the tables in this one, each table was covered in plates.

“So, you brought me here to, what? Get haunted?” Peter asked, turning around the small, dark room crusted with spider webs.

“Nope,” Ned said. “I brought you here to tear it down.”

Peter and Tony blinked at him. “What?” they both said in incredulous unison.

“The building is old and it has a ton of structural damage,” Ned said, nonchalant. “He ran the numbers, and it’s actually cheaper to tear the building down and start again than doing repairs.”

“How does that translate to me knocking down the building?” Peter said. “I still don’t understand.”

Ned just looked at him for a long moment. Peter looked back at him, one brow raised.

“Do you remember,” Ned asked, “that one weekend right after your parents passed when you spent the night at my house?”

Peter’s spine went erect. Tony looked at Peter and found that after a moment he was holding his own breath.

Peter swallowed. “Yeah,” he said.

“You were so uncomfortable, even though it was just me and just my house, where you had been a billion times. You wouldn’t eat anything, and you couldn’t really sleep that night. And then when I asked you how I could help, you put your fist through my wall,” Ned said fondly. “It as so cool, even in the moment when I was terrified.”

Peter winced. “I apologized for that, right?”

“Not my point. After you did that, we went downstairs and split a granola bar with two glasses of chocolate milk. For the first time in weeks, I was able to make you laugh. You told me you felt so much better after that night.”

Ned looked around. “You need to put your fist through something. But you’re scared, because now you can’t throw a punch without risking harm to something or someone else. Am I right?”

Peter sucked his lip into his mouth and looked down at his shoes. He shrugged, glancing at Tony and looked away. Tony blinked at him. Peter, the literal definition of a human cinnamon roll, getting angry enough to punch through a wall? _Pre-bite_ Peter?

“Tear the building down, Peter,” Ned said. “No one cares how much damage you do here.”

Peter shook his head. “You’re crazy,” he said quietly, still looking down.

Ned shrugged. “Then don’t do it,” he said. “But think about it. Mr. Stark and I will wait across the street.”

“I don’t-” Tony started, but Ned knotted his fist in Tony’s sweater with such a strong grip that Tony felt it would be better to follow him out. He cast Peter one more concerned look before turning and following Ned down the staircase and back out the door.

The chill bit Tony around the ears the second they stepped out, and he grit his teeth. Ned noticed and was quick to apologize. “Here, take my scarf,” he tried to offer.

“Keep it,” Tony said sharply. “And then explain what the hell is going on.”

Ned paused with his hands on the scarf at his neck. “I’m trying to help Peter,” he said.

“I got that much. But why do you think this will help?”

“Because I’ve known Peter for almost a decade,” Ned said, tone becoming somewhat indignant. “And if there’s anything I know about Peter, its that when he goes through the five stages of grief, he gets stuck on angry. And not just like normal irritability. Peter gets _angry_. Like, really fucking angry in a way he doesn’t ever get otherwise. He starts snapping off at the smallest stuff, and when you try to call him on it he get physical about it. Nothing else makes him act like that.”

Ned shoved his hands into his pockets and watched his breath fog. “When I found out you had taken his suit I knew he needed my help.”

“…But he wasn’t using the suit to be physically violent,” Tony said, mind reeling. What the _fuck_.

Ned side-eyed him. “Did you watch the footage from the suit?”

Tony shook his head. Between fending off awards and well-wishers and triaging Morgan’s every need, he hadn’t had time.

“He told me about the night he got the black eye. He said the second he landed the mugger dropped everything and took off. Peter chased him and goaded him into a fight. He just wanted an excuse to throw a punch.”

Jesus. Tony looked back to the building. “So do you think he’ll-”

A wooden table went flying out of the side window and arced across the road, smashing into the ground with an almighty splitting of wood. Tony jumped and looked back at Ned, stunned.

Ned couldn’t keep the smug little smile off of his face. “He’s going to be there for a while,” he told Tony. “And I promised my mother I’d be home by seven, so I’m going to head out.” Ned looked Tony up and down. “Are you sure you don’t want my scarf?”

Peter destroyed the whole building within a matter of minutes.

It was honestly hard for Tony to watch, knowing his kid was in there as the building began to shake on its foundations. He flinched every time something crashed or flew out of the window, and he had to keep reminding himself that Peter had been through much worse. Between Toomes and the battle after the Snap, a building was nothing.

It happened very fast; the building lost walls and windows one by one, but the actual event of it caving in was so quick Tony didn’t have time to panic before the whole thing had hit the ground. The ground shook, and the shockwave of air and debris hit Tony a second later. He turned his face away and covered his eyes as he waited for the fine particulate cloud to dissipate. When he bat his eyes open and looked up, the entire building was rubble.

Tony’s legs felt wobbly as he walked toward the wreckage. His panic mounted the longer he went without seeing Peter in the mess, but eventually Tony saw him, swaying unsteadily and staring down at his feet. He was covered in plaster dust.

“Kid,” Tony whispered, stunned.

Peter looked up. His face was covered in more dust, and he had a long cut running from his ear to the middle of his left cheek where he had been nicked with something.

He was also crying.

Tony had a visceral reaction to seeing Peter cry like that. He rushed forward and grabbed Peter’s arm, intending to grab him up into a hug, but Peter put an arm out and pushed him back.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Hush,” Tony said, not letting go of his arm. “You don’t even know why you’re apologizing, and neither do I, so just…stop it. Just take a second.”

While Peter shook in Tony’s hand, Tony surveyed the damage around them. It looked like they were in the middle of a building that had been struck by a bomb. Broken tables, broken glass, destroyed kitchen appliances and rubble lay everywhere, irrevocably destoryed. But it hadn’t been a bomb; Peter had done this with only his hands and the force of all his frustration and fury. It terrified Tony, seeing what this kid was capable of. How long had he been holding that in?

Peter looked a little shell-shocked, face slack like he didn’t quite get what he had done. His eyes tracked around the destruction, bouncing around and taking in all the debris and bricks on the ground.

“Wow,” he finally said.

“You okay?” Tony asked.

“Yeah,” Peter sighed. “That really helped.”

“Well, that’s good,” Tony said slowly with a nod, slowly releasing his arm. It really was a testament to the state of the world that there were still no first responders on the way to see why a two story building had just spontaneously collapsed. “You really did a number here. I’m sure it probably did feel good.”

They stood in silence together before Peter walked over to a long strip of wood that had fallen onto a pile of rubble that was more or less level. He sat on it like a bench and put his forearms on his legs, letting his head fall forward. Tony sat next to him.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Tony said, gently setting his hand on Peter’s back. “I wouldn’t have taken away the suit if I’d known how much you needed this.”

“Well, that’s just it,” Peter said wetly, one hand swiping underneath his nose. “I did something like this after Ben died. Snuck into a gym and hit the sandbags until I thought my arms were going to fall off. I just… I felt better last time.”

Tony didn’t know what to say. “Not enough?” he finally asked.

“Impossibly, but yeah.” Peter sighed and ran his finger through his hair. “This got most of it out, but there’s still just like…a little bit in there.”

“What do you think you need? Tony asked.

“I have no idea,” he said, his voice so lost and defeated that Tony’s heart clenched. “I keep getting so irritated when people tell me what I need to do right now. It’s so annoying. I needed to let off steam, but …” he looked around and a tired laugh poured out of him. “I did that and it wasn’t enough. I don’t know. I just don’t fucking _know_.”

Tony knew, though. “Know what I think?” he said conversationally. “I think you need a Morgan special.”

When Morgan had been younger she’d been more prone to seeing monsters underneath her bed, and often she would come running to their room for comfort. He would sweep her off of her feet, pulling her into his arms and squeezing her firmly against his chest. He’d been careful not to use the full strength of the prosthetic in his hugs since he’d gotten it, but he was confident Peter could take it. He pulled Peter to his feet and turned him so they were standing in front of each other. He wrapped the prosthetic around Peter’s middle and his own arm across the back of Peter’s shoulders. He cupped Peter’s head with the palm of his hand and, using both arms, squeezed as hard as he could.

Peter stiffened. “What are you doing?” he asked, voice high and breathless.

“It’s called a hug, Peter,” Tony said with a smirk. “Thought to have originated in ancient China.”

“Why are you hugging me?”

“What kind of question is that? Take a breath, and just relax for half a second.”

Peter did so hesitantly, letting the tension slowly unwind in first his legs, then his shoulders, and finally his head as he bowed it and let if fall to Tony’s shoulder. Tony moved his hand around on Peter’s head, basically petting him. Peter felt…protected. When was the last time Peter had felt protection like that?

May protected him as best he could, but it didn’t feel like this. It felt like nights together on the couch, or help with homework, or a badly cooked meal. This feeling he got from Tony was protection from the big stuff, the stuff that throttled his mind while he tried to sleep, the hero stuff he felt too guilty to dump on May. He sat with that feeling for a moment, surprised by how deeply he unclenched at the thought of feeling protected and looked after. Was that all he had wanted?

To his horror, a wave of tears poured over so quickly and intensely he didn’t have time to clench his jaw against it to hold it back. A jagged sob came out of him, so hard and choked that Tony squeezed a bit tighter. 

“I don’t - I’m sorry, I’m not - I’m trying to -” Peter couldn’t get the full sentence out through his sobs.

“Stop, Peter,” Tony said firmly. “Just go with it.”

Tony put his chin on Peter’s shoulder and held him there, warm and tight and strong. Peter took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it spill out gratefully. Tony stood there, holding him, letting Peter pull away on his own terms. It took a long, rather moist moment, but eventually Peter did pull away. He blinked at Tony, tears in his lashes, looking kind of stunned.

“And?” Tony asked, arching a brow.

“You give really good hugs,” Peter said quietly.

Tony made an amused noise. “Five years of fatherhood taught me how.”

“How did you know that would work?” Peter’s mind was running on empty. A hug? That was _it_?

“What I learned from Morgan is that there are very few things that can’t be solved with a hug. It doesn’t fix everything, but it gets a foot in the door.”

“Wow,” Peter said, rubbing at his face. “Sorry I um, sorry I cried all over you.”

Tony shook his head. “You probably needed that more than the hug. Never be ashamed to cry.”

“But I know you don’t like this stuff.”

Tony was quiet. He worked his jaw a bit before looked up at Peter and saying, “I’ve had a hard time with my emotional stuff my whole life. Never known how to show it, never known how to take it. But losing half of everyone I loved at the whim of some ballsack-chinned bastard made me realize that I’m not guaranteed time. I can’t waste it pretending I don’t care about people as much as I really do. I regret the time I already wasted. And I might make a sarcastic remark, but I’m trying to do better with mine. I’m actually jealous of how in-tune you are with yours.”

Peter stared. Then a full-blow laugh exploded from him. He actually doubled over and clutched at his sides. _Fuck_ , Peter thought, it felt really good to laugh. “Thanos’ _chin_ ,” he wheezed before falling into another fit of laughter.

Tony smirked even as his chest bloomed to hear Peter actually laugh again. “That’s what you took from that. That’s wonderful. No please, continue to laugh.”

It was only when Peter’s laughter subsided that he seemed to notice how caked in debris he was. “Oh, man, I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” he said, batting at the dust with his hands. “I’ll figure out how to clean this before I give it back.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to your aunt’s,” Tony said. “It’s freezing and you need to get the concrete out of your hair. And I would kill for a shower.” Absently he rolled his shoulders and his hand came up to massage the contact between his shoulder and his prosthetic.

Peter noticed.“You probably shouldn’t be touching that.”

“Oh my _god_.”


End file.
